


Crossing A Line

by Footloose



Series: Loaded March EXTRAS [21]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, F/M, Military
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 05:38:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2456771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Footloose/pseuds/Footloose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance can't help it.  He's overprotective.  He tries to hide it, but Gwen sees through it every time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crossing A Line

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anon prompt:  
>  _Lancelot and Gwen, perhaps apartment shopping (when they look for flats near Mordred's place) and sharing their thoughts about the current situation and protective!Lancelot over Gwen and the baby, like if she experiences nausea or something of the sort._
> 
> * * *

All it took was the faintest raised tick of her perfect eyebrow to know that he'd crossed a line.

Lance winced and looked away, but he didn't take his hand from the small of Gwen's back. If anything, he pressed a little harder, his fingers latching onto the fabric in case she would move away.

She didn't, and that was a small mercy.

Gwen was fine. The baby was fine. Neither Morgana nor Gwen were the worse for wear after their imprisonment, but Lance was convinced that they were hiding the worst of it because they didn't want to make anyone worry. The evidence was there for anyone to see. Morgana was clingier than usual, though she maintained her normal, aloof bearing. Gwen fretted over everyone more than she normally did, and she waved it off as _nesting_.

Lance knew better than anyone -- God, did he ever know -- not to push. Trauma in any form had a tendency to snap back onto the person, regardless of the form of the trauma itself. An injury would return as a ghostly pain years after the fact. Memories would crowd up after a particularly violent encounter. Poking and prodding at the sleeping monster was tantamount to sticking a hand down the beast's gullet and begging to have it bitten off. When the proverbial monsters were Morgana or Gwen, the odds of having more than just a hand forcibly removed was high.

It was best to wait and watch and to be there when they were needed, but not before. The trick was knowing when they were needed.

Lance admitted that he... hadn't figured out the trick of it. Not yet. Not when it came to Gwen. His emotions tended to get in the way. He probably doted on her a little too much. That would account for the annoyed crinkle in the corner of Gwen's eye when she gave him a sidelong look. But he had just gotten her back, and he didn't want to lose her again or have anything to happen to her.

To them.

He glanced down at her belly.

Gwen elbowed him.

"This one?" Gwen asked, jutting her chin to indicate the building down the block. It was one of many buildings that Gwaine had flagged on the list with probable line of sight to the location where Merlin was being held. Three stories tall, cramped in a narrow setting between two equally cramped buildings, with walk-up stairs to reach the first floor. Most of the windows were curtained and dark. No one was home.

Lance looked over his shoulder to see where they were relative to the building -- they were around the block, well away from anyone who might recognize Gwen -- and decided that this particular location was promising.

"We're late," Lance said, staring too long at his watch.

"Not everything is a military operation," Gwen said, reaching out to cover his arm. "The landlady said that she would be here."

The landlady was a tall, bubbly woman with tie-dyed hair that was a blinding mixture of neon orange and greens. Lance didn't know if that was on purpose, or if she had tried to bleach her hair the old fashioned way and failed, but it had taken Gwen several sharp nudges in his ribcage before he could stop staring.

Considering everything that had happened over the last little while, Lance had forgotten that people could be strange all on their own merit. It was oddly disturbing. Normal.

"The apartment is up on the third floor. I hope you don't mind taking the stairs?" she asked, but she didn't wait for a reply before heading up the narrow staircase with perilously steep steps. Lance was torn with wanting to lead the way and protect Gwen from whatever threat might come down and with following up behind her and making certain that she didn't slip.

Deciding that the risk of the first was less than the second, he followed behind her and was stupidly pleased when Gwen _did_ slip on a step and he was right there to catch her.

"It's a lovely one-bedroom with a full kitchen and living room for entertaining guests," the landlady said, waving her arm around. It was a miracle that she didn't knock anything over in the process. "There's spacious storage beneath the stairs and you'll be pleased to learn that the bathrooms have recently been renovated."

The "bedroom" was actually a loft bed without railing that overlooked the living room and the front door and was fixed right above a tiny eating area. The storage area was a cramped area that was full of cobwebs and glowing eyes --

Lance hastily shut the door before Gwen could see the mice.

\-- and the kitchen barely had enough room to turn around. Lance didn't want to look at the bathroom, but he leaned out of the only window to see where they were in relation to the street while Gwen distracted the landlady. There was no view -- not unless he wanted to watch someone else's telly.

"Normally, we rent to tourists for their vacations. I understand you're looking to rent more long-term? Two months?"

Lance shook his head briefly when Gwen glanced at him. The building didn't suit. The flat was too small to accommodate their equipment, never mind the number of people who would be here at any given time. He had already seen on the way up that there was no real access to the rooftop, not short of climbing out the window and free-climbing up the wall.

"Two months, yes," Gwen said, and she looked around pointedly before giving her best apologetic look at the landlady. "But I'm afraid that we're looking for something a bit bigger."

"If it's the rent, I'm certain I can ask the owner if he'd be willing to give a rebate for a long-term stay --"

"Oh, no, it's not that," Gwen said, and she put a hand on her belly. Lance followed the motion and smiled to himself, loving to see that faint flush of happiness bleed into her expression. "We love to entertain, and were hoping for a place with more room?"

"If your friends are big, strapping men like this one," the woman said, winking at Lance, "I understand completely."

Lance grimaced. Gwen forced a smile. "You wouldn't happen to know of anything suitable in this neighbourhood?"

"Matter of fact, I know of two places down the street," the landlady said. "They're bigger and they're a bit more expensive, but let me talk to the property manager and see what I can do about the price. Let me make a phone call, and I'll meet you outside? I'll walk you over there."

This time, Lance led the way outside, slowing down every time he heard the stairs creak or felt Gwen's hand on his shoulder to steady herself. Once outside and in the fresh air, he pulled her close and pressed a kiss against her forehead.

Just because.

"As soon as this is over, I'm quitting," Lance murmured. 

Gwen didn't answer, but she melted against him, and --

"Ow!" Lance jumped back, holding his side; it burned where she'd pinched him. 

Gwen closed the distance between them and pointed a menacing finger in his face. "Don't you _dare_. You'll quit when the rest of the team does and not before --"

"Gwen --"

"I want you home more than anything," Gwen said, her tone softening. "I want to wake up every morning next to you. I want to come home from work and put my feet in your lap and watch stupid reality shows on the telly. I want to watch you put our baby to bed. _Believe me_. I want that more than anything."

Lance bowed his head. He wanted all those things and more, too. Quite honestly, he was tired of trying to fall asleep in the barracks and not being able to because someone was snoring and he couldn't figure out who it was. He was sick of putting _Gwaine_ to bed when he was drunk -- though he had to admit there were times when it was funny, too. And none of his teammates understood the absolute horror that were reality shows. Gwen was the only one who could appreciate his fascination with them.

"But I'm never, _ever_ going to make you stop doing what you love before you're ready, and we both know that it will kill you to leave the team," Gwen said, placing a hand on his chest. He reached up and clasped her hand; he kissed her fingers one by one. "It's not that much longer, is it?"

Lance shook his head. "No. Arthur said it was his last tour. He's going to stay on as long as Merlin does or when the mission's over, whichever comes first."

"And the mission," Gwen said, her voice dropping lower when she saw people approach. She waited until they had gone past before continuing. "It's important, isn't it? It's so important. You can't stop now. They need you."

"I need _you_ ," Lance said.

"I need you, too," Gwen said, and she sighed softly. "And we have each other. That's more than most would say, isn't it?"

Lance wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek. "I don't deserve you."

Gwen's hand was warm on his cheek, her expression soft. Her eyebrow rose, and she said, "If you keep treating me like glass, then, no, you absolutely don't."

Lance opened his mouth to protest when the landlady came out of the building, clapping her hands with an exclamation of _Good news!_ The dark look Gwen shot his way in warning -- probably because she'd noticed he'd been about to say something he'd regret later. He silently thanked the landlady for her well-timed interruption and for saving him from himself.

"I can show you the apartments now," the woman said. She swept a hand out in invitation. "Shall we?"

Lance bit back a grimace when Gwen pushed past him to walk down the steep, slippery stairs first.


End file.
